


on the edge of paradise

by gotatheory



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Orgy, Selfcest, but mostly just about sex, does it count as an orgy if all involved are different versions of two characters?, sort of a fix-it for canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 01:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: “I’ve been reading a lot over the years, trying to find a way to bring your Robin back and though I found a few promising ways, they never amounted to anything because there wasn’t enough power. But now, with all the realms merged, there’s so much more magical energy here… And there are three of us now,” she adds with a pointed look toward their red-coated counterpart. “We can do it, Regina. We can bring him back.”The Evil Queen has a coronation gift for Regina.
Relationships: "Hyde" Evil Queen/Wishverse Robin Hood, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood, Regina Mills/Robin Hood/Hyde Evil Queen/Wishverse Robin Hood/Wishverse Evil Queen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36





	1. prelude.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, part of this was posted as a contribution to OQ Happy Ending Week ([here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231996/chapters/35517909)). I’ve cleaned up the first part since then, which you might recognize if you read it back during Happy Ending Week, and finally completed the rest. I'm posting that part here as the first chapter, with the new stuff coming up shortly. Thanks to Jess and Allison giving this a read through last night!

As a general rule, Regina Mills does not like surprises. She likes to be in control, likes to know what’s going on, and right now, she feels decidedly out of control.

Neither Zelena nor Henry are particularly good about keeping secrets — it’s the only curse that seems to plague Regina nowadays — and that’s suited her fine because she’d rather know what’s happening than not. Right now, her sister and son are surprisingly tight-lipped, grinning at her in a way that has nerves bubbling up under her confusion as they walk down the corridor of Snow’s summer castle.

It’s not a place she’s been to often since the realms merged — though Snow has claimed it once more, as one would expect of someone raised a princess — but the halls are still familiar to her, and she knows that at the end of this hallway lies the grand hall.

Whatever is happening, it must be quite the event to warrant this castle and the dress Zelena had magicked her into the moment they stepped out of the car.

Regina’s confusion only grows the moment she sees her younger son, sheriff’s badge proudly pinned to his suit, but she takes his arm just as she takes the arm of the older version of him. When they open the doors, her breath catches as every muscle momentarily freezes up, stunned by the crowd of people applauding her arrival. It takes the Henrys coaxing her down the aisle to get her moving again, her feet and her sons leading her to the dais where Snow and David await, and for a moment, she has a flashback to decades ago, when she interrupted their wedding.

They’ve all really come so far.

She can’t help but look through the crowd, seeing her family upfront, Ella and Lucy standing next to Neal, and Emma and Hook, baby Hope looking confused by all the commotion from her front row seat in Emma’s arms. And then, on the other side of the crowd, Zelena with Robyn and Alice, Rogers standing behind his daughter and daughter-in-law. There are others, too; Tiana and Naveen, Granny and Marco with August, Ruby, and Dorothy, Maleficent and Lily, and so many other faces she recognizes from the denizens of Storybrooke and the various realms they’ve visited.

When the Henrys release her so that she can walk the last steps to the dais on her own, she looks up at Snow and David, raising an eyebrow. “What is this?” asks Regina, gesturing at the gathering.

“This… is for you,” Snow announces with eyes already teary and a voice choked with emotion.

Regina’s pulse thunders in her ears, almost drowning out her former stepdaughter’s speech as Snow explains that the people have chosen a leader for all the realms. Nonetheless, she still manages to catch Snow’s emphatic, “They want it to be _you_, Regina,” and then David is opening the elegantly carved box in his hands, revealing a crown.

She turns on the spot, looking back at the crowd, the approving looks on her constituents, people who had once gazed upon her with fear and hatred. People she had once cursed to be unhappy. People who had never accepted her or wanted her to be queen. And now, they’re giving her a crown, and choosing her to lead them, and there are so many recognizable faces — Mother Superior, the dwarfs, Rogers’ and Hook’s pirate crew, Jasmine and Aladdin, Ariel and Eric, Aurora and Phillip, and on and on and on.

There’s someone — someone_s_ missing, though.

Regina turns back to Snow, whispering almost hopefully, “Is _everyone_ here?”

Snow grimaces, and it’s all the confirmation she needs to know that she’s not simply overlooking them in the crowd. “They said they were coming, but I haven’t seen them,” Snow murmurs, and Regina’s face falls.

“Well, I’m sure they’re very busy,” she tries to cover, swallowing the tiny lump building in her throat, and Snow recovers quickly, whispering, “Shall we begin?” and reaching for the crown.

It’s as Snow is about to place the crown on Regina’s head after Regina has said _I do_ that the doors burst open, the crowd gasping in shock at whoever has chosen to interrupt such a momentous occasion.

“Sorry we’re late,” a too-familiar voice rings out, and Regina is smiling before turns around, futilely trying to school her features into something sterner as she meets the eyes of her doppelgänger.

“Cutting it a little close there, aren’t you, Queenie?” she asks the erstwhile Evil Queen, raising a disapproving eyebrow at her as she approaches the dais.

“You know how much I like to make an entrance,” replies the Queen with a nonchalant shrug. “How we _all_ like to make an entrance.”

She’s not alone; Robin of Locksley is right by her side, looking perhaps a bit uncomfortable with so much attention focused on him and his wife. There’s Roland, too, so grown up now, but he’s beaming like a little kid. Last but not least, with her black wide-brimmed hat and characteristic red riding coat, is the version of her from the Wish Realm.

It’s still strange to see her doubles, despite the amount of time she’s spent around the Queen. But the other Regina, the Captain Regina of the _Queen’s Revenge_ (formerly the _Jolly Roger_) is something entirely different. Black hair tumbling in windswept curls down her back, makeup minimal but worn like armor, a somewhat more weathered expression on her face. She’s still much more guarded than even Queenie, and she looks about as happy to be there as Locksley does.

“Excuse me,” Snow interjects primly, loudly whispering so everyone gathered at the front hears her. “Can we get on with the ceremony please?”

The Queen rolls her eyes, moving next to the Henrys, giving each of the boys a hug before all attention is back on Regina.

When Snow places the crown on her head, Regina smiles, and almost feels complete.

After the ceremony is over, and all that’s left is the suitably huge reception in the grand hall, Regina stands by herself, watching the merriment held in her honor. She wears a small smile as Henry fumbles through a waltz with Jacinda, while his younger version is pulled into a silly dance-off with Neal, Lucy, Alice, and Robyn. Prince Henry is decidedly more withdrawn than the son she raised, but he’s opening up, slowly beginning to blossom now that he’s surrounded by his family with room to grow and go his own way.

“I should be used to seeing double with three of us around, and yet,” the slightly deeper voice of her erstwhile evil counterpart startles her just a little, the Queen managing to sneak up on her somehow, “I still can’t get used to seeing two of our son.”

Regina turns to look at her, surprised to see her by herself. A quick scan of what she can see of the crowd reveals Robin talking to Emma and Killian, a bit awkwardly from his expression, and Captain Regina is carrying on a conversation with Rogers, of all people. That’s… intriguing, and Regina realizes now she doesn’t know much of her Wish Realm counterpart’s history with that version of Captain Hook.

Maybe she should ask.

“Regina,” the Queen is saying, bringing her attention back to her, “I have something to tell you.” She’s nervous, something Regina recognizes too easily as she holds her hand to her stomach, and that makes Regina nervous, too. “I’ve been reading a _lot_ over the years, trying to find a way to bring your Robin back—”

There’s a moment of white noise roaring in her ears, everything stopping as melancholy punches her in the gut hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, and she almost misses the rest of the Queen’s sentence entirely.

“—and though I found a few promising ways, they never amounted to anything because there wasn’t enough power. But now, with all the realms merged, there’s so much more magical energy here… And there are _three_ of us now,” she adds with a pointed look toward their red-coated counterpart. “We can do it, Regina. We can bring him back.”

Regina is shaking her head, unable to look at her other half, unable to respond in any way to this idea of hers. She swallows hard once, twice, finally finding her voice, “No. Nothing — nothing brings back the dead. We know that too well.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” the Queen spits, reaching out and gripping Regina’s arm harshly. She bends close, eyes flashing with fire as she points out, “Hook came back. Gold before him. Charming. How many others?”

“That was — that was _different_,” she scowls and tugs her arm free. She doesn’t want to have this conversation here anymore, people are beginning to notice the tension. “Follow me,” she hisses, stalking off and not looking to see if the Queen follows. When she reaches the hallway and the door has shut behind her, she turns and sees the Queen standing there, arms crossed as they face off. “While I appreciate you having so much pity that you’re still looking for a way to bring him back, we both know magic comes with a price and the cost would be much too high, as if it’d ever work anyway.”

“It’s not _pity_,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “I want you to be happy, you deserve the happiness that everyone else has. And I can give it to you, but I need your help.”

Regina doesn’t want to listen to this, wants to smother out the spark of hope the Queen’s offer is striking inside of her. “We can’t. I don’t — what if it goes wrong? What if the price is too much? It’s been so long… We don’t even know if there’s anything to bring back.”

The Queen holds up a familiar red feather, one of many that Regina has collected after too infrequent dreams of her soulmate. Smirking, she says, “Yes, we do. And this proves it.”

She hesitates, staring at the feather in her hand, and her treacherous heart skips a beat. There is so much magic in this Storybrooke, united with all the magical realms alongside it, and Captain Regina is as adept with her magic as the two of them. There’s no telling what the Queen was able to find, so many tomes out there promised ways to bring back the dead. She shouldn’t agree, it’s been years, Robin is dead and gone and yet she dreams of him every now and then, of him and that little tavern where they can speak and touch and her soul feels complete in a way she can never replicate when she’s awake.

She thinks of Captain Regina talking to Rogers, of Queenie and Robin of Locksley, of her son and his wife and Snow and Charming and Emma and Killian and Robyn and Alice and Zelena and Chad. She aches to have that.

Blinking back tears, she reaches out and grasps the Queen’s hand, wrapping her fingers so that they’re both holding the feather. “What do we need to do?” she asks in a voice much calmer than her tumultuous soul feels.

“Come to my castle after the reception. It’s going to be a busy night,” the Queen smirks, letting go of the feather for Regina to keep.

As her other half walks away, Regina holds onto the feather and hopes.


	2. the main event.

This is as anxious as Regina can remember feeling in a long time. She’s vibrating with it as her footsteps echo in the too-quiet corridors of the Queen’s castle, the halls as dark and foreboding as Regina can ever remember them being. It’s strange to see it like this now, to be able to hear her own heartbeat in her ears instead of the raucous laughter of the Merry Men and the children who frequent this place nowadays.

(Who would have thought, the Evil Queen and Robin of Locksley running a home for lost and forgotten children, or hosting the Merry Men as frequently as they do?)

(She remembers an exchange in the forest just outside these walls: _Who knew an evil queen had a soft spot for children? _and she shudders, pressing a curled fist to her sternum.)

She knows the way to the Queen’s chambers, of course, though it takes entirely too long, leaves her alone in her own mind for an excruciating amount of time. She should have used her magic, but she wants to save it for the… whatever it is that Queenie has planned.

When she reaches the grand door that separates Her Majesty from the rest of the castle, she raps her knuckles against the stone. She knows all too well the dangers of walking into (really any place in this particular home) Queenie and Robin of Locksley’s bedroom unannounced (she cannot express how awkward it is to walk in on _yourself_ having sex, especially since her other self is apparently an unbridled exhibitionist).

The door swings open to reveal Queenie (mostly fully clothed; she’s abandoned her cloak, leaving her in a decorated corset and leather pants), Robin of Locksley (changed out of his fancier attire from earlier into a tunic and breeches that he seems much more comfortable in), and the Captain (her red coat and hat discarded over the back of the chair she sits in, arms crossed so that it pulls her own white tunic tight across her chest, and of course, still wearing skintight leather pants).

Regina flattens her hand against her jeweled bodice, wishing she had taken the time to change back into one of her more mayoral outfits, something that felt more like _her_.

“I almost thought you weren’t going to come,” remarks Queenie, stepping aside to let her in, and Regina forces her hand to her side.

“I couldn’t leave early,” she points out. “People would have talked. And I didn’t want to tell anyone where I was going.”

“You mean _why_ you were going.”

She purses her lips, and instead looks around the room again. She sees a tray of assorted items and a small cauldron over a fire, and Queenie moves over to stir it. “So… want to tell me what’s going on here?” she asks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“I won’t bore you with the specifics,” Queenie replies with a flippant wave of her hand. “You don’t need to know about them for the spell to work. Suffice to say, it requires a little bit of various ingredients that I gathered earlier, and some things that I couldn’t add until we were all together.”

“That’s… very vague of you.”

Queenie sighs, stopping in her stirring to look up at Regina, her gaze sharp. “Regina. Do you want to do this? Because you don’t have to know everything about it for it to work, but you _do_ have to believe, and have hope. I know how difficult that is for us, but if you have your doubts, then this isn’t going to work, and then it’s just a waste of time and energy.”

She bites her lip, and then bites out, “You know how difficult this is, huh? How difficult it is to have a piece of you missing for years, to wonder if he’s out there, if there was something that could be done, if you gave up too soon, to blame yourself because you’re the reason he died? Because you’ve had your soulmate for all this time, Queenie.” She jabs a finger in Locksley’s direction, the rest of the fingers on that hand clenched into a tight fist to keep her tempestuous magic in check.

Her double breathes in and then out, her posture softening as she does, and that’s just _wrong_. Queenie is supposed to be her anger, her dark impulses, her unending sorrow, and here she is, looking at her with understanding eyes. “I’m still you, Regina,” she says, crossing the room to clasp her hand. “I’ll always know what that feels like, and that’s why I want to fix it. Will you trust me? The way I trusted you and Henry to give me that fresh start I didn’t deserve?”

Fuck, she had steeled herself earlier so that she wouldn’t cry, and now she feels the tears welling, not spilling out but they’re there, and Queenie is too close not to see them. “I don’t—” she starts, but can’t finish, because there’s so much to say and she’s spent too long stoppering this particular well of pain.

“I know,” the Queen murmurs, cupping her cheek. “Let me help.”

Regina closes her eyes, trying to breathe, and when she opens them, they’re dry. She nods, and Queenie steps back, returning to her cauldron.

“Memories,” she says, stirring and lifting the spoon so that Regina can see the silky gold liquid dripping threadlike back into the cauldron. “That’s mostly what I had to gather, before we started. Memories of your Robin. From Roland, from the Merry Men, from anyone I could think of that had a connection to him. Bits and pieces of items that were important to him. And I needed a bit more from Roland and Robyn, his only genetic living relatives. Some hair, a bit of blood. Nothing they would miss, or minded giving over.”

“Please tell me you didn’t tell them what we’re doing,” Regina interrupts, suddenly stricken at the idea that _anyone_ knew what they were going to attempt. She’d never survive the outpouring of pity if this didn’t work.

“No, not in so many words,” she replies. “I can keep quiet about _some_ things.”

Regina’s not too sure she believes that, considering how much Queenie loves making a spectacle.

“There were other, more general ingredients. And then some more specific things that I haven’t added yet. Water from Lake Nostos, those feathers he leaves you in your dreams, some things I need from you and the Captain and myself, and some things from my Robin.”

“What kind of things?” Regina asks, raising an eyebrow at the vagueness of her statement.

Queenie shrugs one slender shoulder as she stirs. “A few drops of blood, like I took from Roland and Robyn,” she says flippantly, and Regina does suppose that blood is to be expected for a spell ritual such as this.

She bites her lip, eyes darting from the Captain, to Robin, and then back to the Queen. “When do we begin?”

The Queen’s mouth curls into a smirk, an expression she’s never truly been able to get rid of despite sharing half of Regina’s goodness. “Let’s begin right now,” she replies, a puff of smoke swirling in her palm and revealing a knife. She pricks her own index finger in one smooth motion, letting the drops of blood cascade into the cauldron. “Who’s next?”

One by one, she presses the tip of the blade to their fingers, adding their blood before moving on to the next. When they’ve all contributed, she magicks the knife away, stirring the liquid bubbling in the cauldron and studying it carefully.

Regina looks over her shoulder, looking at the dark, viscous concoction swirling around the sides. “Now what?”

Queenie carefully ladles the mixture into a vial, stoppering it and handing it to Regina. “You’re going to take this into that tavern you visit and give it to Robin. Hold his hand as tightly as you can, like you hold onto those feathers he gives you, and concentrate on your magical energy. Focus it on him, on bringing him back with you. The Captain and I will be focusing our magic on you, to boost yours. And then you wake up.”

“And that’s it?” Regina says, because that sounds almost deceptively simple.

The Queen furrows her brow. “Regina, gathering the ingredients was the easy part. Rebuilding an entire person from some blood, hair, and memories with only your connection to his soul as a base… This is going to be hard.”

“Right, I know, it just… seems like so little for trying to bring him back, and it’s actually supposed to work?” She shakes her head, pressing her palm to her forehead. “It seems impossible. And I guess we’re hoping that I see him tonight, anyway? I don’t see him always, you know…”

“I know,” the Queen replies, turning to the Captain who has been seated quietly this entire time, even when she donated her blood to the potion. “Did you get it from Maleficent?”

She stands then, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat and withdrawing a black glass vial that Regina recognizes too well. “I did,” she says, holding it up for all to see. “It was… interesting seeing Maleficent again. Even if she’s not exactly my Maleficent.”

Regina wonders then what exactly became of Maleficent in Captain Regina’s realm, but she’s more focused on the vial in her hand. “What’s that? A sleeping draught?”

“Indeed,” the Queen murmurs, taking it from her. She conjures an apple, pouring the sleeping draught over it, and then extends the apple to Regina. “Take a bite?”

“I don’t think so, Queenie. You said I was supposed to wake up to bring Robin back with me, how am I supposed to do that if I’m under a sleeping curse? And why do I have to be under one just to see him? I go to the tavern without a curse; sending my soul to the Netherworld isn’t going to help.”

“It’s not your typical sleeping curse, so calm down,” the Queen says with a roll of her eyes. “It’s diluted a bit, so it’s not as strong. Maleficent knows her sleeping curses — you know that. It’ll put you to sleep, it’ll let your soul roam, but your soul is tethered to Robin’s. That’s why you can find him in that tavern; it’s probably why he’s stuck there in the first place.” Her expression slips then, from something serious to something more sly as she says, “As for waking up, I’m sure you and Robin can come up with _something_ to break the curse.” She bounces her eyebrows, that lascivious smirk settling firmly into place.

“And if it doesn’t work?” Regina scowls, not really appreciating the implications.

“If you’re not up in a reasonable amount of time, we’ll get Henry. Problem solved.”

Not for the first time, Regina thinks this sounds like a terrible plan. She stares at the proffered apple, her own fingers wrapped around the potion that is somehow supposed to bring Robin to life. Everything could go wrong, she could be getting her hopes up for nothing, and her history with hope only makes her more nervous about the whole thing.

“Regina,” the Queen murmurs, and she meets her eyes. “Take the bite.”

She remembers those years ago, when the Queen was waiting for Henry to write her a fresh start. How nervous she looked, while Regina believed she would get her chance.

One hand holding tight to the vial for Robin, she plucks the apple from Queenie’s hand, and sinks her teeth into the apple’s flesh.

Everything goes black.

When Regina opens her eyes, she’s sitting in the tavern, the fireplace giving off a warm glow that doesn’t quite reach her. Clutched in her fist is the vial for Robin, and she glances down at it, just to make sure it’s really there. When she takes a breath, she smells the sweet scent of pine and earth, and then she feels the gentle embrace of arms slipping around her waist as her soulmate joins her on the bench.

“Hello, my love,” he murmurs into her hair, still in the elaborate updo from her coronation. His hands stroke over her corseted sides, squeezing gently, and for a moment, she relaxes entirely in his arms.

“Robin,” she breathes out, unable to resist reaching behind her to touch his face.

He releases her, letting her turn around to face him, and then he’s cupping her cheek, stroking his thumb against her skin. “What’s got you all dressed up like this, hmm?” he asks, eyes taking in her elaborate gown.

“Oh,” she says, looking down at her own clothes, shaking her head a little. “I was — I was coronated today. With all the realms merged together, they thought there should be a central leader, and they picked… me. To be queen.”

She still can’t believe it, really, talking about it brings tears to her eyes, but when she meets Robin’s gaze, his smile is soft and proud and completely unsurprised. He murmurs to her, “Of course they did,” and cups both of her cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears that started to fall. “You’re a brilliant queen, Regina, and it’s long been time for the people to recognize that.”

It’s that show of unyielding faith in her that reminds her why she’s here, how she’s supposed to bring him back, and she’s reaching for his hand then, pressing the vial into it. Before he’s finished asking _What’s this?_, she’s explaining, “The Queen — my counterpart, the one I told you about? — she thinks she discovered… a way to bring you back. To, um, to life.”

Robin goes very still, his eyes focused on her, and she shifts uneasily under the intense stare. “Regina,” he starts after several seconds of silence, “I thought — nothing brings back the dead. We both know that.”

She swallows around the lump taking up residence in her throat, trying to force it down. “I know. Or, I thought I did, but Queenie seemed very convinced that this would work. She’s been looking for awhile, apparently, and with the realms combined and three of us in one place, she thought…”

“Three of you?” he repeats, his brow furrowing.

“Ah, yes, there is another me now. She’s from the Wish Realm, the same realm that Robin of Locksley and my other Henry came from. And Tilly, the girl your daughter married that I told you about…”

He blinks for a second, then chuckles softly. “Three of you in one place. I’m not sure I could survive that, if this works,” he says, holding up the vial and giving it a little shake. “But Regina, it’s been years since I died.”

It’s a little bit funny how he can say that so easily, whereas her breath hitches every time she so much as thinks about it, even now.

“I’m not sure I’m really needed anymore… My daughter was a baby and can’t possibly remember me, and Roland was so young, too… And now they’re all grown up. They don’t need a father. And the Merry Men have a leader in your counterpart and mine, so they have no need of me.”

She reaches out, taking his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. “Oh, Robin,” she murmurs, letting her fingers lightly scratch over his scruff. “Roland and Robyn might not need you like they would when they were little, but I know they’d be ecstatic to have you back. Roland misses you so much, and Robyn… You’d be so proud of how she modeled herself after you, based only on what stories Henry and I could tell her and fictional accounts of the Land Without Magic. And the Merry Men are _your_ men, for all that they’ve accepted Locksley. They were your friends, your brothers, and they absolutely would take you back.”

She looks away for a second, steeling herself as she admits in a softer voice, “And I need you, too. I’ve lived my life, but there’s always been a part of me missing, because it’s right here with you.” Her hand slides to his chest, where his heart flutters under her palm. “You shouldn’t be here, Robin. You’re stuck because our souls are tied together, and that damned crystal of Hades untethered you. So let me take you home.”

Regina watches the tears gather in his eyes, but they don’t fall. He nods once, reaching up with his empty hand to hold the one cupping his cheek now. “Okay,” he breathes out, taking out the stopper of the vial and bringing it to his lips. He hesitates and says, “Whatever happens, Regina, I want you to know… I love you. Always.”

Tears well in her own eyes now, and she leans forward, pressing her forehead to his before kissing him softly. “I love you too. Always.” She pulls back just enough to let him raise the vial back to his mouth, but she holds onto his hand and keeps his gaze even as he tips back his head.

Remembering what Queenie said, she focuses all of her magic on this moment, on bringing him back, on breaking the sleeping curse, and she feels the power sparking at her fingertips, more potent than anything she’s ever felt. She tightens her grip on him, cups the back of his head, and pulls Robin into a kiss.

Light explodes behind Regina’s eyelids, and this time, when her eyes open she’s lying down. Awareness creeps in slowly, her brain a bit foggy as she takes in her surroundings. A canopy bed, the stone walls, the draftiness of the room — right, she’s in the Queen’s chambers. She sits up, her head spinning, and she hears, “Easy, easy,” in a voice almost identical to her own.

“Robin?” she gasps out, trying to get her body to cooperate, to look around, but the damn room is a blur. “Did it work?”

Silence answers her, and her heart drops to her stomach, a sensation so strong she almost gags with it, and the vertigo doesn’t help with that sudden wave of nausea and despair.

“Regina,” she hears finally, her heart changing course, soaring back up to lodge in her throat. A hand grasps hers, and everything falls into place, her vision clearing until she sees Robin’s face — _her_ Robin’s face.

He’s here, it worked, he’s in front of her and alive. She pulls him close, until their lips are touching, though she doesn’t turn it into a kiss. For a moment, she simply inhales him, his breath ghosting across her skin, her hand slipping down to his neck, to his pulse. She feels it underneath her fingertips, strong and steady, and tears prick at the back of her eyes.

She can still remember when he fell in front of her, the life of him dissipating before her and nothing she could do to stop it. When she touched his neck, his wrist, searching for any sign only to receive none.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, cupping her cheeks. “I’m here.” He repeats it, over and over, dotting a kiss to her tears as they fall.

“I never thought — I didn’t—” and she can’t even speak, her breath is catching, tiny hitching sobs, and she’s vibrating, too much energy, electricity skating under her skin until she feels like she’s going to explode. She surges forward, catching his mouth with her own, barely able to kiss him properly for all that she’s feeling right now, but she needs this right now. Needs to be as close to him as she can get, like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

She forgets where they’re at, as she pushes him backwards onto the bed, not caring that they’re facing the wrong way, until she hears herself moan — but it’s not herself, it’s one of the other Reginas.

Springing apart from Robin, she looks up, eyes wide as her gaze falls upon the Queen and Captain Regina. She almost can’t believe what she sees, blinks a couple of times, but then Queenie is moaning again, right into the Captain’s mouth as they kiss. Regina almost can’t believe her eyes, blinking a few times because surely her vision must still be blurred, but no, her doubles are definitely kissing. Kissing, and more, as the Queen’s hand slides up from the Captain’s waist to her breast, groping through the fabric of her white tunic.

“What the hell?” Regina finally says, completely forgetting about Robin underneath her as she watches herself make out with… herself.

The Reginas break apart, panting slightly from their heated kisses, and Queenie laughs. “Oh please, surely you didn’t think every version of us was as prudish as _you_?” she says derisively, raising an eyebrow. “At least some version had to have a bit of me in her. And the good captain has certainly had more than a bit of me.”

The Queen smirks naughtily, Regina’s eyes go wide. “You’ve done this before? When?”

“Shortly after the realms merged, of course. Captain Regina and I couldn’t resist meeting, and well, it progressed from there… Turns out we’ve both always been curious about being with ourselves — surely you want to know if we’re as good a kisser as we think we are, Regina?”

“Oh, we are,” the Captain smirks, identical to the Queen’s expression in every way, and Regina shivers a bit at the uncanny unison of it. “At kissing and… other things.”

“You’re married!” she points out to Queenie, who bursts into laughter.

Through her somewhat maniacal giggles, she manages to reply, “Dear, if you think Robin wasn’t enthusiastic about that night in _every_ way — well, he is right here, I can let him answer for himself.” She turns to her husband then, quirking an eyebrow at him as she extends a hand, and Robin of Locksley smirks lasciviously back at his wife.

He approaches her, taking her hand and pressing a sweet kiss to the back before turning her and pulling her back into him, so that her backside is flush against his hips. “Is this an answer enough for you, darling?” he murmurs into her ear, but loudly enough for everyone to hear it as he grinds his hips against her ass.

“Regina is the one with the questions, perhaps you should show her,” the Queen replies, though she reaches a hand up and back, fingers seeking purchase in his hair as he begins sucking kisses down her neck.

Regina watches the display, the way Queenie’s hips rock back into Robin of Locksley, and then the other Regina is leaning in, kissing at the swells of Queenie’s breasts as Locksley’s hands come up and knead them through the corset. She almost misses Locksley saying, “She has her own Robin; does she really need me over there, too?”

Queenie moans, and Locksley pauses in his ministrations to look at her as best he can manage from his standing point beside her. “Oh, it’s _you_ that needs me over there, is it?” he teases, cupping her breasts more firmly.

She scowls, or probably would if she weren’t in the middle of being pleasured. “As if I’m the only one in this relationship narcissistic enough to fuck myself. And you’re certainly not the only one that likes to watch.”

That snaps Regina out of the daze she found herself in (something she’s blaming entirely on the magic overload, not her own perverse curiosity), reminds her that Robin is back, and he’s underneath her. When she glances down at him, his eyes are firmly locked on the Queen and Locksley as he gropes her breasts and Captain Regina kisses her way back up to the Queen’s mouth. Her Robin’s mouth is parted, his tongue licking at his bottom lip as he watches and — Regina shifts above him, just a little — he’s hard beneath her.

Her movement draws his attention back to her, and he looks up, almost sheepish and caught out. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Don’t apologize,” she murmurs, bending down to kiss him gently. “I’m sorry for this — whatever this is. You’re brought back to life and the first thing I do is jump you, and then my doubles are over there being _weird_, and you probably want to get out of here—”

“Regina,” he interrupts, grasping her hips and holding her against him, and this time he’s the one pushing against her, letting her feel his erection. He sits up then, keeping her astride him, but bringing them more on an equal level as he asks, “Does _that_ feel like I want to get out of here?”

He doesn’t know how wet she is right now, how the magic is thrumming in her veins like a second pulse, flooding her senses and electrifying her nerves. She can’t help the way she leans into him, hiding in the crook of his shoulder as a little moan escapes her at the sharper press of his cock between her thighs. “It’s all that magic,” she says, a little irritated but mostly turned on. “We used so much of it to bring you back, and it’s still in my system, and I need…”

She trails off, but he catches her meaning, finishes her sentence for her: “A release.”

Regina feels a hand at her back then, too small to be Robin’s, and then her voice except slightly different murmurs to her, “We can give you that. Think of how much fun it’ll be, Regina. All five of us together… You won’t know if you’re coming or going.”

The Captain, she thinks, almost certain that Queenie is still in Locksley’s arms. She doesn’t reply, stays silent even as the Captain’s fingers dance up her spine, and she senses rather than feels the magic undoing her corset laces. The hand stops at her shoulder, urging her back from Robin a bit, and she lets it pull her back until she’s looking up into the sultry dark eyes of her own face.

(It always looks wrong, seeing her own eyes staring back at her, the facial features identical and yet somehow off. Like looking in a mirror, but subtly distorted.)

She bites her lip, and the Captain’s lips, the deep red lipstick smeared from the Queen’s mouth, curl into a smirk in response. A thumb brushes against her mouth, and Regina releases her lip, mouth parting slightly at the caress, and she closes her eyes against the surge of desire.

Even though she expects the touch of the Captain’s lips to her own, she gasps anyway, magic sparking through her and into her and then back again, like completing a live circuit. The spark turns into a blaze, has her suddenly hungry for more, and she reaches up to hold the Captain’s face as her tongue plunges into her mouth.

Robin mutters a soft, “Fuck,” and the guilt she feels is intense, but momentary. Right now, all she can think about is extending the pleasurable shock running through her, and she knows she can only find it in kissing her own lips.

This is wrong, and messed up, even for her, but she feels alive. Robin is alive beneath her, she can still feel him hard between her thighs, and she rocks into him, wanting to try and give him something while she devours a version of herself.

She moans in protest when the Captain pulls away, trying to hold her against her even as she laughs. “Eager now, aren’t you?” she teases, voice smoky, and it’s so strange to hear that tone of voice from someone else, when it sounds so much like her own. “We’re all a bit overdressed for this, I think.”

Regina realizes she didn’t even remember that she was still wearing clothes, much less the elaborate ball gown that she wore for the coronation. She looks down, surprised to see the fabric bunched around her hips, obscuring Robin’s pelvis where she sits atop him.

“Yes, that definitely has to go,” the Captain agrees with her unexpressed thought, and then before Regina can attempt to do anything, she snaps her fingers. An all-too-familiar cloud of purple smoke surrounds her, whisking her clothes away, and Regina shudders at the chill that skitters over her skin in its wake.

Another look down at herself, and now she’s naked, straddling Robin’s hips, her nipples hardening in the cool air of Her Majesty’s chambers. He’s naked as well, the magic having stripped him as it had Regina. She swallows, her mouth going dry from the feel of his bare skin against hers.

The Captain sounds entirely too pleased with herself as she says, “Much better,” before she’s reaching out, cupping one of Regina’s breasts in her hand. “Wouldn’t you say, Your Majesty?”

Regina’s gaze has fallen to Robin now, watching the way his blue eyes darken and his tongue licks at his lips, his teeth sinking into his lower lip in that little biting move that he does, and she slickens between her thighs, so ready for him. But she’s reminded that there are others in the room with them besides Captain Regina, and she lifts her head to see what Queenie and Locksley have gotten up to in her distraction.

Her eyes widen immediately at the sight.

Locksley’s face is buried in the Queen’s bosom, while his hand has wormed its way into her leather trousers, and Regina never realized how fucking _attractive_ she and Robin look together until this moment. Queenie’s head is tilted back on her neck, extending the column of her throat as she moans softly as her husband nips at her breasts and touches her.

“Guess they’re preoccupied,” the Captain snickers, smirking at her and Robin as she turns back to them. “That’s all right; I don’t mind entertaining you two by myself.”

Something about her tone makes Regina shiver, her eyes shutting momentarily at all the delicious thoughts that cross her mind in the moment. She might not know everything about her Wish Realm double, but she’s just another form of herself, and she _knows _all the dirty things she could come up with.

The bed dips with the Captain’s weight as she climbs onto it, moving until she’s positioned beside Regina and Robin instead of standing next to them. She reaches out, stroking along Regina’s bare arm, but when Regina looks at her, she’s looking at Robin.

“Hello there,” she murmurs, eyes traveling over his bare form. She can’t see much, from the way they’re sitting, but she takes in his naked torso all the same. “You really are a perfect copy of the other Robin,” she says, and Robin’s eyes flick over to his double.

“No,” Regina says then, because she’s had the most experience with both versions. “There are differences…”

Her counterpart smiles deviously, trailing her fingers up Robin’s arm until she brushes against his neck. “Let’s see if I can discover some of them, hmm?” she says in a sly whisper, her hand curling around the back of Robin’s neck to lead him into a kiss.

Regina sees the hesitation, the way Robin resists her pull, his face turned to her so that he can gauge her reaction, and she runs her hands over his skin, soothing, encouraging. _It’s okay_, she tries to tell him nonverbally. After all, it’s only fair after she made out with herself, right?

Of course, a part of her wants to see it. After seeing Locksley and Queenie entangled together (she can hear them, the lurid sound of Locksley’s fingers moving inside of her, Queenie’s moans and gasps as he riles her up, muffled by the wet, uncoordinated kisses they’re sharing), she can’t deny that she’s turned on by the vision of her and Robin together. She’s eager to see it up close, as dirty as that makes her feel to admit, even to herself. She shouldn’t want to share him, should want to take him far from here, should not want to simply _take_ him like she does.

The magic, though, she can still feel it thrumming in her veins, beating in time with her pulse, throbbing at her core. She wants him, wants this, all of it.

Robin reads her as well as he ever did, lets the other her draw him into a kiss. Regina watches mesmerized, wondering what it’s like for him — unbidden, she remembers the kissing Robin of Locksley in her vault, how wrong it felt, and she wonders if it’s anything like that for him. The kiss is tentative; the Captain dives in, fierce and hungry, but Regina sees Robin’s uncertainty, the carefulness with which he returns the kiss.

It lacks something, and suddenly, she can’t resist tugging him to her. The need to claim him springs out of nowhere, or maybe it’s the need to confirm a suspicion. She slants her mouth over his, her tongue pushing past his lips, and her mind calms.

Kissing Robin feels right, so right, and she wants him, and she’s in his fucking lap, she should just — it wouldn’t take much to reposition — and Regina reaches to do just that when she hears herself cry out in orgasm.

What a weird feeling, to hear her own pleasure like that when she’s not the one experiencing it, and she can’t help but look at Queenie as she trembles in Robin of Locksley’s arms.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs to her, surprisingly tender with her as he kisses her. Regina watches as he draws his fingers out of her, so sweet as he presses his forehead to her, and then immediately turning scandalous once more as he sucks his wet fingertips.

Scandalous, but hot, and a pang of desire resonates low in her stomach.

“Sounds like someone is ahead of us,” Regina mutters, the other Regina, the one who smells like the sea.

“We should even the score,” Regina replies, looking into her own gaze, before shoving Robin to his back. “I’m sorry,” she whispers low, trying to keep this between them, “but I need you right now.”

He reaches up, brushing her hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “I’m yours, my love,” he says, drawing her down into a kiss.

She moans into his mouth, lightning shooting through her, magic pent up and tingling under her skin. She rocks against him, dragging her wetness over his erection, until she can’t wait any longer. She takes his cock in her hand, stroking him twice just to enjoy the feel of him against her palm.

“I love you,” she breathes out, and then raises up, lining him up with her center and then sinking down.

She could come just from that, just from taking him inside of her again after being without him for so long. He feels _right _as he slides in, some sort of switch flipped inside her so that she feels complete in a way she hasn’t in years. Tears well at the backs of her eyes, enough that she can feel the prickle of them even though they don’t fall, and her breath escapes her in a rush.

Robin groans beneath her, his hands tight at her hips. “Regina,” he murmurs reverently, and she opens eyes she didn’t realize she had closed. “I love you.”

“I-I need — _mmm_, Robin — I need to move,” she says, voice trembling already. “I’m sorry, I can’t take it slow, I need—”

“Whatever you need.” His own voice is tight, and she becomes aware at the tension he’s holding in his body. He chuckles, embarrassed, “I don’t think I’ll last long either.”

Regina smiles a little, leaning down to brush her nose against his and reveling at the way the action pushes him deeper inside of her. “It’s okay; we’ll make it up next time.” Because they _have_ time now, and she’s going to hold onto that thought, that nothing will take him away from her ever again. She won’t let it.

With that in mind, she plants her knees into the bed, her hands grasping at his shoulders, and then she rides him.

She sets a punishing pace, the energy building inside of her guiding her movements, and all she feels is _good_. She’s gasping, and moaning, rocking her hips, pressing her mouth to his in a fervent kiss that she can’t maintain. Her climax is building quickly, and she’s barely aware of the other three people in the room, hears something that might be the Captain grumbling about being left out but it doesn’t matter. The two of them are the only ones, the way he feels inside of her, his hands roaming her back, gripping her hips to help guide her on his cock, and she rises up, changing the angle until he hits that spot deep inside of her.

Reaching behind her, she uses his knees for leverage and she rolls her hips, slower, steadier, enjoying the languid grind of him inside her. Distantly, she hears him encouraging her, groaning and muttering heated words, and she picks up speed with every stroke, until she pitches over the edge with a sucker punch of pleasure. She cries out, startled by it, falling forward against Robin and biting at his shoulder as her climax shudders through her. Beneath her, he groans, keeping her moving until he reaches his own orgasm.

For a moment, she simply savors being in his arms like this, sweaty and shaking, until she remembers where they’re at. Raising her head, she looks over at her counterpart. Regina is lying on her back, the Queen and Robin of Locksley having joined her at some point on the other side of the bed. Her eyes widen as she takes in the Queen kissing the Captain, the way she’s moving down her body and dipping her head to suck at her nipples.

Robin of Locksley sits on his haunches, his hand moving over his own cock, his eyes riveted on the sight before him. She watches him for a moment, takes in his rapt attention to his wife and her double, and perhaps she shouldn’t find that so hot, but she does. Beneath her, her own Robin runs his hands over her back, stroking her skin and sending a shiver down her spine.

Regina turns back to him, kissing him languidly, her hand moving to his head and tangling her fingers in his hair. She breaks the kiss when she feels something — someone — touch her, and when she looks up, Queenie has ceased her attentions on Captain Regina.

Queenie stretches, nipping at her bottom lip before drawing her into a kiss. It’s mischievous, playful, exactly everything Regina would expect of a kiss from this aspect of herself, and it’s intoxicating. She accepts it wholeheartedly, leaning into it as her mouth opens to the tongue that brushes against her lips.

Another mouth brushes her neck, her jaw, and she turns out of the kiss with Queenie to meet the Captain. The two Robins groan as the three of them kiss, twisting in and out of each other’s arms to kiss and tease the other. Regina moves entirely on instinct, almost forgetting the surreal nature of the situation as she kisses herself, and her other self, again and again until she’s moving off Robin’s lap so she can kiss her way down Regina’s chest.

The Queen has the same idea, following Regina’s path down the Captain’s chest, until both of them are sucking at her nipples. She falls back onto the bed, gasping, and Regina thinks of all the things that she enjoys, trying to employ them now on her other self. The sound that escapes her when she drags her tongue over her pebbled nipple just right brings a smirk to her lips.

They’re definitely alike in more than just appearance and shared history, then.

Queenie moves down further, abandoning the breast she was teasing, and Regina moves quick, covering it with her mouth and bringing her hand up to attend to the breast she just left. She wants to watch, though, wants to see Regina’s face the moment Queenie puts her mouth on her, so she raises her head, lets the nipple slip free from the suction of her mouth.

“Gods,” the Captain gasps out, writhing beneath them, and then Queenie reaches her destination, and Regina watches her face twist with pleasure. “_Fuck_.”

It’s a thought that Regina echoes in her head, surprised by how hot she finds seeing her own face in this moment. She surges up then, kisses herself passionately. Her fingers capturing Regina’s jaw as she holds her in place, tongue delving deep into her mouth.

A hand slides over her shoulder, tugging at her, and when she instinctively turns to look, she sees that it’s Robin, her Robin. He kisses her, breaking away for a second to gasp, “Sorry—” another kiss, another gasping breath, “—so hot—” again, longer this time and then, “—can’t resist you.”

Regina moans, her head falling forward a moment as she tries to keep up with all the lust in the room right now. When she looks up again, taking in the Captain as she writhes under Queenie’s ministrations, Robin of Locksley has moved behind Queenie. He’s guiding her hips up, encouraging her to spread her legs and arch her back, and Regina watches as he pushes his cock inside of her.

Between the Captain’s legs, Queenie stops, pressing her head to her hip as she takes a breath. For a moment, no one moves as she adjusts to Locksley, and Captain Regina waits it out, catching her own breath. Queenie moves after a minute, sliding a hand from the Captain’s thigh to between her legs, slipping first one finger and then a second into her. She starts a rhythm just as Locksley slowly begins to thrust, lowering her head as well to suck at the Captain’s clit.

Regina bites her lip, watching the three move together, and then she’s reaching for her Robin. “Fuck me like this,” she says into his mouth, kissing him deeply and then turning her attention back to the Captain. She blindly moves into a position for him, then reaches for her double, kissing her this time as Robin lines up and presses inside of her from behind.

Impossibly, it’s even better than before, or maybe it’s just all the sex happening around her that enhances the feeling. Whatever it is, she’s groaning into Regina’s mouth, letting the kiss spin out as Robin tries to time his thrusts with this counterpart.

The Captain reaches for her, not giving up on the kiss, tangling her fingers in her hair and holding her in place as her tongue flicks at her bottom lip. “_Hmmm_, fuck, this is so good,” she gasps, a strangled sound escaping her at something Queenie does with her own tongue, or perhaps the fingers inside of her.

Regina is inclined to agree with her, but she’s forgotten how to form words between Robin’s cock inside of her and someone’s wandering hand — she doesn’t think it’s Robin’s, the touch feels even more familiar, it must be one of her counterparts — cupping her center, grinding against her clit. All she can do is focus on moving, on being fucked and touching the Captain, and she’s groping Regina’s breast, trying to kiss her when finally she shudders, crying out beneath them all as she comes.

The Captain trembles from her orgasm, catching her breath for a moment, and everything else stops too. Regina hasn’t come again yet, and she doesn’t think Queenie has either, but both of the Robins pause, letting everyone settle down a bit. In the calmness, Queenie extricates herself from between the Captain’s legs, kissing up her body, detouring along the way to kiss Regina. She tastes herself on her own lips, sweeps her tongue further into the Queen’s mouth just to taste even more, and soon, the two of them are tangled in each other.

The rest of the evening becomes a blur of limbs and mouths and orgasms. Regina loses count, eventually, becomes almost drunk on the amount of pleasure she partakes in, barely able to discern who was fucking who at certain points. She remembers bits and pieces, flitting moments of sex that flicker in and out of her brain.

Robin, fucking her as Locksley fucks the Queen.

The Queen straddling her face, as the Captain eats her out and fingerfucks her, as Locksley fucked the Captain, and Robin stood by the bed, the Queen’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

Sandwiched between Locksley and Robin, so full she could hardly breathe, while Queenie and Captain Regina ate each other out.

She was useless after that, she thinks, vaguely remembers lying there as her doubles touched her, hands and mouths and tongues moving over her skin, coaxing her to one last orgasm before she fell asleep.

(There’s another image that she might have dreamed entirely, of Robin and Locksley, mouths tangled together, perhaps fucking the Captain and the Queen. It’s one of her favorites, either way.)

Come morning, there are a whole host of issues waiting for her to deal with; most related to Robin’s miraculous return, but some of them more mundane and relating to her role as the new queen. That’s for the morning, though, because tonight, she sleeps in Robin’s arms, curled against him for the first time in years, enjoying a rare night of peaceful, blissful rest.


End file.
